


Private Performance

by chaos_monkey, MotherRameses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Anal, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergent, Convenient Alien Biology, Distinguished Admirals being unapologetically horny for each other, Gratuitous Discussions of Conductor's Technique, Gratuitous Smut, Inspired by Art, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, poly Thranto pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherRameses/pseuds/MotherRameses
Summary: Thrawn attends a Royal Imperial Symphony rehearsal while on Coruscant and finds conductor Grand Admiral Savit far more intriguing than he expected to.
Relationships: Balanhai Savit/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 38
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxwithpretzel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwithpretzel/gifts), [silent_bard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silent_bard/gifts).



> Thanks go to foxwithpretzel for the incredible gif that inspired this fic; and to silent_bard for starting the Thrawn/Savit tag on AO3, bringing the aforementioned gif to light after it was sadly removed from tumblr, and just generally getting us stuck on this ship till we wrote something for it <3
> 
> (if you haven't seen either one, we highly recommend you go have a peek at silent's Thravit fic! And don’t forget to scroll down and check out the link to the gif in fox's comment as well ;) )

“All I ask is that you _count!”_ Savit bellowed, glaring at his sorry excuse for a percussion section and resisting the urge to throw his baton down in frustration and storm off-stage. He had already tried that last night, and clearly it hadn’t impressed upon these second-rate musicians just how badly they were performing. 

Savit sighed, scowling and running a hand over his face. If his rage left them unimpressed, then they’d just have to do this the old fashioned way.

“From peth to resh,” Savit growled, glancing down at his score. “We’ll do that section again, and again, and  _ again,  _ until it is correct. I hope you don’t have any after-rehearsal plans.”

He ignored the flickering wave of annoyed looks exchanged among the musicians as he raised his hands, twitching his baton for the tempo. Technically, it was in their contract that he couldn’t hold them late. But he’d like to see them try to leave when the hour was up— the Emperor had been invited to attend tomorrow’s performance, and suggesting that anyone who got too uppity didn’t care to impress their glorious leader would keep them in their seats. 

And if even that wasn’t enough to bring them up to his standards, Savit would make sure they were never hired again. 

* * *

Thrawn wasn’t sure if he would be allowed to sit in on the Royal Symphonic rehearsal, and had been fully prepared to purchase a ticket for tomorrow evening alongside the general public. But upon seeing his pristine white uniform, the young man guarding the backstage entrance smiled and held the door for him. 

“Guests of Grand Admiral Savit are rare,” the man said before Thrawn had opened his mouth to speak, a warm lilt to his voice. “But always welcome.” 

“Thank you,” Thrawn replied, inclining his head and slipping through the door. He didn’t explain that he in fact _wasn’t_ a guest of Grand Admiral Savit, and he briefly wondered if playing doorman was the young man’s usual job. He carried himself like an actor and the lack of search or inquiry seemed odd; perhaps he had taken a second job to supplement what would be a meager income.

Then again, there were enough security cams around to guard against theft and malfeasance, and Thrawn thought it unlikely someone would plan to attack a rehearsal. Music was not a world he was overly familiar with, so perhaps the lackadaisical attitude toward security was not out of place. Filing the thought away, Thrawn made his way down the dimly lit hallway, following the disorganized sound of musicians warming up on-stage to the main hall. 

Thrawn was surprised to find the lights turned up in the hall, and for some reason found the large, mostly empty space unsettling as he quietly slipped into a cushioned chair in the right wing. There were perhaps a dozen other people scattered in the seats in the lower tier, sitting singly or in pairs, and a few sent him mildly interested glances as he sat. Thrawn had attended a handful performances here before, and he realized that seeing a space created for socialization, open and bright and beautifully designed, nearly deserted was the source of his disquiet. 

“Alright, quiet, quiet, let’s get started,” a voice called from the stage, and Thrawn turned to see Savit striding towards the conductor's podium centered in front of the musicians. His voice echoed in the empty hall, and Thrawn wondered if his experience of the music would be significantly different due to the extra reverb from the lack of bodies. 

“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover since last night went so poorly,” Savit continued dryly, and Thrawn noticed some of the musicians exchange contemptuous looks at the statement. “So let’s go.”

Thrawn reclined in his chair, relaxing as Savit began the rehearsal. It was fascinating to watch the musicians work, seeing so many different lines of complex music woven together seamlessly. The musicians were clearly highly skilled, and Thrawn leaned forward with interest, studying how the musicians balanced reading their music with watching Savit— 

“Stop, stop!” Savit called, lowering his hands and whirling to face the high strings. “Did you even look at that phrase since yesterday? Again!” 

Thrawn frowned. He hadn’t heard anything to indicate a mistake; no sour tone or misplaced note stood out to him. But perhaps his untrained ear had merely missed the error. 

They began again, and for the second time, Savit brought them to a halt, lamenting an error Thrawn could not detect. More looks of annoyance were exchanged as Savit berated them, but the musicians didn’t speak as Savit began for a third time. Yet even then, it seemed the admiral was not satisfied, and when he stopped them, he instead turned to the high winds. 

“You, principal,” Savit called, gesturing with his baton to a young woman holding a slim, metal instrument in her hand. “Bring your dynamic up at aurek, since they can’t seem to handle it.”

The young woman nodded swiftly, reaching forward to make the indicated change in her music, and to Thrawn’s surprise, two of the string players directly in front of Savit rolled their eyes at each other. Savit had to have seen the exchange, yet he did not speak to the insubordination. 

“Again.” Savit raised his hands, and this time, Thrawn detected a change in the music, hearing the young wind player’s airy line more clearly over the strings. It was a minute difference, and Thrawn was certain he would not have noticed it had he not observed Savit make the change just now. Yet Savit had spent nearly ten minutes of their rehearsal on that one change, and it was clear the whole proceeding frustrated the performers. So why had he done that?

Thrawn steepled his fingers in front of him as the rehearsal continued. His research into project Stardust had led him to Grand Admiral Savit, and his curiosity regarding the man had finally peaked, leading him to track down when the musician-turned-admiral would be plying his former trade. Thrawn wanted to better understand the man, and take the opportunity to expand his analysis ability. Seeing how Savit rehearsed confirmed his assumptions about the admiral, and Thrawn found himself easily slipping into what Eli liked to call “analysis mode” as the rehearsal wore on. 

_Eli._ Thinking about his former aide sent a pang of longing searing through Thrawn. It had been nearly a year since Thrawn had sent him away, and the void the commander left behind still brought pain. 

Thrawn continued to think of him as a commander, though Ar’alani had sent word that he had been demoted to a lieutenant since joining the CDF. Her updates on Eli had been sparse, and limited to his progress unraveling the secrets of the navigators. Thrawn had insisted that Eli would make greater strides if he actually knew what he was working on, but Ar’alani had maintained that his loyalty was still to be discerned, and kept the knowledge of his true task secret. 

Thrawn scowled. Eli deserved better than that, and it bothered him that he didn’t know exactly how Eli was faring among the Chiss. Thrawn couldn’t contact him directly, and wondering if Eli was happy with his new station sent another pang of longing through his heart. Feeling a bit reckless, Thrawn allowed himself to reminisce fondly on their years spent together before Eli left. Eli’s quiet genius, his steadfast loyalty, his kind heart. Despite his small stature, the way he would appear larger than life when he found himself angered by injustice. 

Thrawn had been taken with Eli the moment he laid eyes on him. Still young, unsure of his place among the higher-ranking officers, but certain of the knowledge they asked him to give. Working alongside him and watching him grow into the strong, competent commander he now was, had prevented Thrawn from becoming jaded during his time with the Empire. 

And of course, getting to know Eli as more than an officer, as a friend first, then as a partner and lover as well, had made Thrawn the happiest he had ever been in his life. 

As usual, this particular train of thought— remembering countless nights spent with Eli, when they could simply be Eli and Thrawn, and not aide and admiral— led to reminiscing on their decidedly more salacious activities. Thrawn surreptitiously shifted in his seat, reminding himself where he was and doing his best to ignore the minute tightening of his trousers at the memories. 

Thrawn could remember the last time he was intimate with someone; he had been counting the days since he had last seen Eli. Unconsciously at first, then with purpose. The idea of counting implied that there would be an end to the numbers. That, and he knew Eli would likely be doing the same, simply because it was a very Eli-thing to do.

Since Eli had left, there had been no one besides his own hands. 

Thrawn felt a now-familiar twinge of annoyance at that. He and Eli had agreed that it was sensible to seek other partners once Eli left. They both agreed that physical pursuits were an excellent form of stress relief, and frankly, had previously been monogamous mostly for convenience, rather than conscious choice. 

Now though, Thrawn realized that it was also partly due to his own social abilities. 

To be fair, Thrawn had no desire to liaison with anyone on his flagship, or even on another ship in his fleet, for that matter. It would be complicated, messy. But he had taken shore leave, when Faro’s glares became too sharp to bear, and even then, had found no one to bed. Either he tripped up some unspoken social cue, or lost interest in potential partners simply because they paled in comparison to Eli. Thrawn was sure Eli would chide him for the second point, and always did his best not to hold potential lovers to unfair standards. But he couldn’t help it. When he found someone uninteresting, the game was done. 

Thrawn scowled. He knew what he found interesting— art, tactics, hells, even just intelligent conversation on subjects beyond the banal. Studying military movements or discussing culture. These were part of his everyday life, yes, but why should he not also enjoy them in his leisure time? After all, that’s what he was doing right now. Technically, he was on shore leave while the _Chimaera_ underwent repairs, uniform notwithstanding, and he had chosen to sit in on this rehearsal for his own personal reasons. It was enjoyable. 

Thrawn watched as Savit conducted his orchestra, back straight and chin held high and proud as he gracefully waved his baton. He was clearly skilled, competent at his craft, even if Thrawn could not discern the finer points of it. Thrawn enjoyed watching someone who was good at what they did; there was pleasure to be found in studying others expertise. 

With a jolt, Thrawn realized he was enjoying watching Savit for another reason. 

Grand Admiral Savit had passed Thrawn’s first seemingly impossible test— he was interesting. He had to have some modicum of military intelligence to be a grand admiral, and the work he was currently engaged in was no mean feat. And he was certainly attractive, in his own way. Tall, nearly as tall as Thrawn himself, and fit for middle age. His stature showed that he likely maintained his fitness for aesthetic purposes, rather than function (as Thrawn did), but the effect was not unpleasant. Bright eyes, neatly kept salt-and-pepper hair, and the sort of graceful hands Thrawn associated with artists and musicians. He carried himself with purpose, confidence. That in itself was attractive. 

Thrawn was pulled from his musings by the sound of Savit’s voice. “... We’ll do that section again, and again, and  _ again,  _ until it is correct. I hope you don’t have any after-rehearsal plans.”

Thrawn arched a brow. Apparently the orchestra was not up to Savit’s standards. Thrawn disagreed with Savit’s manner of motivation, but perhaps things were different in the civilian world. And his last statement— _I hope you don’t have any after-rehearsal plans—_ was intriguing. 

Thrawn smiled to himself. That statement implied Savit had no such plans.

At least, not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Thrawn found his way backstage as the rehearsal ended, ignoring the suddenly-clipped whispered comments from the musicians threading around him as they returned to their belongings. Judging from their furtive looks thrown his way, they had been chattering unflatteringly about Savit, and upon seeing his uniform, metered their words.

The admiral himself appeared once the last musician had left the stage, scowling down at his datapad and twiddling his baton in his hand. 

“Grand Admiral,” Thrawn called politely, his voice carrying over the chatter of the musicians packing up around him.

Savit glanced up sharply, quickly schooling his scowl into a look of polite interest at the sight of Thrawn. 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn,” Savit said as he approached, tucking his datapad beneath an arm and extending his hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Thrawn shook his hand, noting the calluouses at the tips of his fingers and in the palm, where Savit’s baton must usually rest. Apparently he practiced his crafts, playing the keycurve and conducting, with enough frequency to maintain them. 

“I had some free time, and heard of your upcoming performance,” Thrawn said, nodding to the stage. “The Kurost shipyards are full, so we were directed to Coruscant for repairs. It was most impressive, watching you work.”

Savit chuckled. “I’m afraid it’s my fault Kurost is unavailable to you— that’s the 3rd Fleet’s stomping ground, and the pirates in the area are keeping my ships on their toes.”

“I had not noticed the _Firedrake_ on the list of ships in-dock,” Thrawn said mildly, and Savit arched a brow.

“I never send a destroyer to do the work of a light-cruiser,” he said, waving a hand. “Captain Boulag is keeping up the patrol while I’m here.”

“Of course,” Thrawn said. “Regardless, I was glad of the opportunity to watch you work. Music is not an art I am overly familiar with, and it was most informative.”

“I’m flattered,” Savit said warmly, looking slightly surprised. “Your love of culture is well known; I’m pleased you enjoyed the rehearsal.” Savit paused, tossing a scowl at the thinning crowd of musicians around them. “Even if I did not.”

“Was it not productive?” Thrawn asked.

Savit scoffed. “Not nearly as productive as it should have been,” he said with a wry grin, shaking his head. “The benefits of being unfamiliar with the art.”

“I would love to learn more, if you would be willing to share such knowledge with me,” Thrawn said, turning his gaze to the musicians. A few were glancing over at them, as though keeping tabs on their conversation, and Savit chuckled.

“Walk with me.” Savit brought a hand to Thrawn’s back, gesturing him forward. “Have you a few minutes? I’d be happy to answer any questions you have while I pack up my things.”

Thrawn noticed Savit didn’t remove his hand as they passed through the crowd, and for a moment, Thrawn wondered why. Then he caught the way the musicians eyes would flick between the two of them, then to Thrawn’s uniform, then quickly away. Savit was demonstrating his status with the familiar gesture, and the musicians were deferring to it.

“I’ve no demands on my time this evening,” Thrawn said, allowing Savit to guide them through a door down a short hallway that led to the dressing rooms. Even though they left the musicians behind, Savit didn’t remove his hand until he needed to enter the door code for his room.

Interesting.

“I will admit I could discuss my music for hours,” Savit said, keying the lights on. The room was not overly large, but it was comfortable. The floor was carpeted and a few well-used armchairs lined the walls, along with a sound-system and small personal refrigerator. Savit set his datapad down on a low table before crossing to the opposite wall and picking up his baton case from a shelf. “Perhaps keep your questions simple if you don’t want to be here all night.”

“You will be the best judge of whether or not a question is simple,” Thrawn said, easing himself into one of the armchairs Savit nodded to. “Because I cannot anticipate your answers.”

Savit chuckled, reaching into the refrigerator to pull out a crystal decanter and two chilled glasses. “I’ll pour enough for a good discussion, then. Where shall we start?”

“Is tomorrow evening the first time this particular work will be performed?” Thrawn asked, accepting the whiskey with a nod of thanks.

“No, this will be its third performance,” Savit said. He sank into the chair next to Thrawn and pulled his datapad to him. “I’ve got a recording of the premiere, let’s see here…” He fell silent for a moment, and then the sound of music drifted softly from the room’s sound system. 

“This particular orchestra was much more capable than the one I’m currently working with,” Savit said dryly, idly waving a hand— conducting, Thrawn realized, as the music swelled around them. He stopped after a moment though, grimacing and glancing down at his tunic.

“Do you mind if I quickly change? The podium can provide quite a workout, particularly if the musicians are rather useless.”

“Not at all,” Thrawn said, and he made to stand, but Savit waved his hand dismissively, indicating for him to remain seated.

“You don’t need to leave unless you’re uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter to me; I’m a military man after all.” Savit said blithely, setting his drink down and crossing to the wardrobe opposite them. 

“If you do not mind my continuing to ask questions,” Thrawn said, settling back in his chair. 

“Of course,” Savit said, and Thrawn politely directed his gaze downward as Savit started undoing his tunic.

“Why conduct this performance if the work has already been recorded? Could the musicians not just listen and learn to emulate the recording?” he asked thoughtfully, after a moment of trying to think of something besides the fact that Savit was currently undressing just a few paces away from him. 

Savit let out a strangled sort of cough, and Thrawn glanced up, concerned Savit had somehow hurt himself removing his tunic. He was met by the sight of Savit staring at him incredulously, chest bare and undershirt held loosely in his hand. 

“That’s not— You can’t do that!” Savit exclaimed, sounding mildly affronted and apparently unaware of his state of undress. “Every performance is different, as so dictated by the conductor. Why perform a work more than once if it has already been recorded?”

“Is the enjoyment of watching a performance not enough?” Thrawn countered, surprised to find Savit so flustered by his question.

“Hardly,” Savit said, turning and plucking a hangar from the wardrobe. “The musicians perform the interpretation the conductor sees fit.”

“So you are doing more than keeping time and coordinating the various sections,” Thrawn said, nodding to himself. Of course. He had thought the complexity of the music simply necessitated guidance, not realizing that the conductor could actively _change_ the music. 

“Absolutely,” Savit said, turning back to Thrawn and eyeing him thoughtfully. “Here. Let me show you something.” He turned back to the low shelf with his baton, still shirtless, and pulled the thin stick from his protective case. He crossed to Thrawn and handed it to him. “Look at the handle.”

Thrawn turned the baton delicately in his hands, surprised at its feather-light weight and precise balance from the handle through to the tip. The handle itself was a curious sort of tear-drop shape, made of a smooth, shimmering stone with a brass weight set in the bottom. It caught the light as he turned it, the black stone giving way to a dusky, almost incandescent gray, then back to black again.

“Crafted from an Alderaanian Smoke Gem,” Savit said almost reverently. “I won’t tell you what I paid for it. But this baton is as much an instrument in my hands as the musician’s instruments are in theirs. A conductor is _essential_ to a successful performance.”

Thrawn grasped the handle and gave the baton a tentative flick through the air, attempting to find the beat in the music drifting from the sound system. “I had not expected it to feel so delicate,” Thrawn said. Savit chuckled.

“You call that delicate?” He said, and he reached forward to shake Thrawn’s wrist. “It’s a baton, not a club.”

Thrawn glanced up at the admiral with a frown and gave the baton another flick. “I would hardly wield a club as such,” he said reproachfully.

“You could fool me with that stiff wrist,” Savit said, taking the baton from Thrawn. “Here, I’ll give you a quick lesson.” Savit stepped back, gesturing for Thrawn to stand in the center of the room.

Thrawn took a quick sip of his whiskey before following the other man. Savit’s enthusiasm was infectious, despite his sharp criticism, and Thrawn’s own excitement to learn something new almost let him forget the admiral was shirtless. 

Almost.

“Stand there and say ‘ah’,” Savit said, turning to face Thrawn.

Thrawn arched a brow.

“Go on!” Savit said, flicking his baton. “ _Ah!_ ”

“Ah,” Thrawn said, feeling a bit foolish.

“Good. Now, say it when I cue you.” Savit held his hands up, and Thrawn waited. A split second later, Savit flicked his baton, and Thrawn reflexively responded.

“Ah!” He said, short and clipped as Savit’s gesture had been.

“Good. Again,” Savit repeated the motion, and Thrawn responded in turn. “Excellent. Now, I’m going to ask for it either louder, or softer. You won’t know which, until I tell you.” He held his hands up, and Thrawn eyed the baton, waiting for the cue.

“Eyes here,” Savit said, gesturing with his other hand for Thrawn to meet his gaze. “Use your peripheral vision. Trust both my guidance, and that you will understand.”

Thrawn brought his eyes to Savit’s, and found the admiral’s dark eyes boring into his own. Savit held his gaze for a few breaths, then ever-so-slightly, twitched his baton.

“Ah,” Thrawn said softly, surprised at how much information had been conveyed with the subtle gesture. “Remarkable, I— _Ah!_ ” Thrawn cut himself off as Savit suddenly gestured fiercely, slashing his arm through the air and unequivocally demanding a forceful response.

“Very good, Grand Admiral,” Savit said, eyes glittering and relaxing his arms. “You follow very well. Would you like to try?” He held the baton out to Thrawn.

“Yes,” Thrawn said immediately. He stepped forward and accepted the baton, hefting it gently in his hand. Seeing Savit wield it up close had reframed his thinking regarding the small stick, and as he took it, he could suddenly perceive the weight in his hand, how it pressed into his palm and the space it took up.

Thrawn mimicked Savit’s earlier stance, legs shoulder-width apart, and raised the baton. But as he held it, he realized his arm felt too long, too awkward, to convey the sound he wanted. 

“Remember to breathe,” Savit murmured, running his fingers up his bare abdomen and taking a deep breath. Thrawn did his best not to be distracted at the sight of Savit trailing his graceful fingers over his chest, and took a breath as well.

“Good. And on the exhale, give your cue.”

Thrawn took a third breath, raising the baton, then lowered it as he blew the breath out. The unclear cue looked nothing like Savit’s.

“With conviction,” Savit added drily.

Thrawn pursed his lips and did it again. The baton seemed to skitter through the air, the motion not fitting the sound he was imagining in his mind.

“Let’s try something else,” Savit said brusquely, and he raised his left hand. “Mirror me. We’ll do a basic four pattern.”

Thrawn followed Savit’s motions, first down, then across his torso, then to the other side, up, then down again. 

“Good,” Savit said with the faintest hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Keep it stable.”

Thrawn ran through the pattern a few more times, and Savit nodded approvingly. 

“You have excellent rhythm,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Thrawn almost appreciatively. Thrawn wasn’t entirely sure if the approval was for his conducting or… other reasons. Savit’s eyes roamed over his body, but perhaps he was merely watching other aspects of his beginner technique.

“Find the beat in this,” Savit cut into his thoughts, gesturing to the speakers and the music flowing from them. “It’s in four.”

Thrawn nodded, turning his attention to Savit’s music. It really was beautiful, multi-layered yet clear in its motion. He found the pulse quickly and moved the baton in time to the music.

“Good stability, but your downbeat is off,” Savit said sharply. “Stop and hold.”

Thrawn complied, and Savit twitched his fingers for a moment, then spoke again.

“Rea-dy and _now,_ ” Savit gestured as he spoke, subdividing the syllables and cueing Thrawn to begin again. 

“Excellent. Find the center, good… once you’re ready, relax. Move with the music.”

“Am I not already doing so?” Thrawn asked, furrowing his brow.

“You’re keeping time, yes, but this isn’t a march,” Savit scoffed, and he languidly waved his hand. “Relax. Smooth it out.”

Thrawn frowned, but did his best to mimic Savit’s movements. It was made more difficult by the fact that Savit leisurely strolled towards him as they conducted, and Thrawn could see the muscles in his shoulders and back rippling with the continued movements of his arm. Thrawn’s own hand swished through the air, never breaking rhythm as Savit moved, and before long Thrawn noticed a shift in his demeanor.

Savit had begun to scowl. “Come now, you can do better than that,” he suddenly growled, his low tone taking Thrawn aback. “It’s not hard. Certainly not for someone like you.”

“Perhaps if you explained what I am doing incorrectly,” Thrawn requested, still surprised and doing his best to keep his tone neutral. Savit’s intensity and oddly back-handed compliment was unexpected, but Thrawn now understood the man well enough to know it came from a desire for perfection. Thrawn could relate to that exceptionally well; he marvelled at how curious it felt to be on the other side of expert criticism. “What do you suggest?”

“Loosen your wrist,” Savit ordered. “And your elbow, and shoulder. But— No! No, don’t start _flapping_ like some drunken mynock!”

Thrawn grimaced and attempted to reign in his wayward joints. Savit was less than a meter away now, staring intently and cradling his chin in his hand as he circled around behind him with an almost predatory grace. Thrawn suddenly felt uncomfortable in his well-pressed tunic, and the knowledge that Savit was closely examining his body, objective reasoning aside, did not do him any favors. The intense scrutiny was making it difficult to focus, and Thrawn flushed slightly, averting his eyes to stare straight ahead again. Had it really been so long since someone… _looked_ at him, that he could be so easily flustered by simply being watched so closely?

“Take off your tunic.”

Thrawn’s brain stalled for a moment, and he lost the beat of the music. “I’m sorry?” he asked, turning to look at Savit.

“Your uniform. It’s too restrictive,” Savit said, stepping forward and plucking at one of Thrawn’s sleeves. “I would know,” Savit added with a wink before continuing. “I can see it stressing across your back.”

Thrawn arched a brow, but didn’t speak as he deposited the baton in Savit’s waiting palm and quickly stripped off his tunic. He adjusted his undershirt, then folded his tunic neatly, precisely as always, and set it down on the table before turning back to the other admiral. Savit’s eyes quickly flicked up to Thrawn’s face, but not quickly enough.

Savit had definitely been eyeing him as he undressed.

Feeling simultaneously bolstered and flustered by that knowledge, Thrawn accepted the baton and again attempted to follow Savit’s directions. Savit continued to prowl around Thrawn, muttering corrections here and there, but apparently even without his tunic, Thrawn’s performance was still sub-par.

“No, like _this,_ ” Savit growled, his tone exasperated. Thrawn stiffened briefly in surprise as the admiral stepped in close behind him— _very_ close— and took Thrawn’s wrist in one hand. “You’re trying too hard to be a bloody metronome; you need to be _more_ than that. Put some _emotion_ into it.”

Thrawn relaxed again as Savit guided his movements with the baton, in a much smoother, more fluid motion than Thrawn had been doing himself. Savit’s _other_ hand was resting lightly on Thrawn’s shoulder, and as it slid down his arm he was suddenly and quite forcefully reminded that Savit was still shirtless, pressed up against his back, arms all but encircling him. 

“Loosen your shoulders, back, hips. Conducting is all of your body, not just your arms,” Savit was saying, the hand that had been on his arm now moving to Thrawn’s waist.

The warm pressure of Savit’s hand proved distracting, to say the least; and Thrawn found himself regretting the continued presence of his own undershirt, thin though it was. Of his clothing in general, if he was being honest. 

“Don’t just stand there at attention,” Savit murmured, his tone leaving Thrawn suspecting the double meaning of the phrase may have been intentional. “ _Feel_ the music. Relax. Move with it.” 

Thrawn tried, but found himself too self-conscious to relax entirely. He couldn’t shake the frustrating feeling that he must look somewhat ridiculous, standing there rhythmically waving a stick in the air— and he was growing more and more distracted by Savit’s body pressed against him from behind, by the soft tickle of breath on the nape of his neck, and… Thrawn couldn’t be _absolutely_ certain the man was in the same state he was, but it certainly felt like he might be. 

Realizing he was actually getting worse rather than better at this point, Thrawn finally stopped and let his arm drop. 

Savit sighed wryly and released him. “Well, I suppose you gave it a good try at least.” 

Thrawn turned to face Savit, who didn’t move away, leaving them nearly— not quite, but nearly— touching. Face to face, this time. Savit’s lips were parted, his pupils dilated and his cheeks radiating excess heat. He had a slightly expectant expression, his face tilted up to hold Thrawn’s gaze; and yet he was somehow still managing to look down his nose at Thrawn, chin raised almost in a challenge. 

“I appreciate the lesson, truly. But it would seem my talents lie… elsewhere,” Thrawn said pointedly, glancing down at Savit’s bare chest and back up again. He handed back the baton, purposely letting his fingers trail over Savit’s a moment more than was strictly necessary, and Savit raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Is that right?” 

“It is.” 

The tension in the air between them wound tighter as the small gap that remained between them gradually closed, despite neither of them making any overt movements closer. 

“Then tell me, Admiral Thrawn… Where _do_ your talents lie?” Savit asked, his lips curving up in a faint smirk as that simultaneously expectant and challenging expression intensified. 

“Perhaps I should demonstrate,” Thrawn answered, the small flare of nerves that leapt up in his gut largely drowned out by growing desire. 

It had been so long since he had enjoyed the touch of another being, and he could _feel_ the heat of Savit’s body and his own filling the thin buffer of air between them. Though perhaps they would, strictly speaking, be disobeying fraternization regulations, there was no difference in rank and neither of them was in the other’s chain of command— and in any event, given the Empire’s general stance on interspecies relations, it was extremely unlikely that Savit would ever tarnish his own reputation by letting word of such a liaison get out. 

Their lips met, and Thrawn’s slightly bleak thoughts scattered like a flurry of snow on the wind. 

His focus narrowing to nothing beyond the warm press of Savit’s mouth on his, Thrawn slipped one hand around to the small of Savit’s bare back and pulled the other admiral flush against him. He heard Savit inhale sharply through his nose, lips parting slightly; and Thrawn took the invitation, sliding the tip of his tongue between them. Savit’s mouth opened on his and their tongues met, hot and wet and tentative for the space of a heartbeat— 

And then hesitation vanished, Savit’s arms snaking around Thrawn’s back to pull him down harder into the kiss, fingers twining through his hair and sending little sparking shivers over his scalp and down his neck. The slowly building music washed through the air around them as Thrawn slipped both hands onto the firm curve of Savit’s ass, walking him backwards across the room towards the nearest chair by the wall. With their hips pressed tightly together, there was no mistaking that Savit _did_ indeed share Thrawn’s current state of arousal, his erection stiff and hot against Thrawn’s even through the layers of material they were both still wearing. 

At that thought, Thrawn moved both hands to the fastenings of Savit’s trousers, deftly working them open without pulling back from the kiss. Savit took the cue to do the same to Thrawn’s, unfastening them one-handed before palming Thrawn’s erection through his underclothes with a low, appreciative chuckle. Wanting nothing more than to feel the heat of Savit’s skin on his, Thrawn finally broke away just long enough to sweep his undershirt off over his head; then let it drop to the floor in a careless heap and drew the other grand admiral back into another hungry kiss, pushing Savit’s loose trousers partway down his hips and leaving his erection still trapped inside his clothing. 

Mostly. 

Hands on Savit’s bare hips, Thrawn pulled him close again, feeling the coarse hair on the human’s stomach tickling over the sensitive skin of his belly; the hard heat that pressed against the front of his own hip where the very base of Savit’s cock was exposed above the waistband of his underclothes. 

“Well don’t stop _there,_ ” Savit all but growled against Thrawn’s lips, squeezing him harder through the thin material of his underwear. “I thought I was getting a demonstration of _skill—_ ” 

Savit’s words cut off in what was very nearly an undignified yelp as Thrawn pushed him back half a pace more, dropping him abruptly into the armchair Savit apparently hadn’t noticed was right behind him. His glower was somewhat undercut by his kiss-swollen lips and the flush of arousal still heating his dark cheeks, and Thrawn flashed the admiral a feral grin as he followed, sinking down into a crouch to yank the offending clothing down and off. 

A brief moment of wrestling Savit’s boots off; and then Thrawn had him naked, lounging indolently back in the armchair with his legs spread wide while he toyed idly with the conductor’s baton he still held in one hand. Even now, he was moving it in time with the music, though Thrawn didn’t think he was actually aware he was doing so. 

Confident that Savit was not about to change his mind, Thrawn stood again and took his time removing his own boots and the rest of his clothing, noting the way Savit’s gaze roamed appreciatively over his body as he did. Savit’s composure and complete lack of self-consciousness was decidedly alluring, Thrawn reflected as he watched Savit watch him. The admiral had made no move to close his legs or cover himself despite his nakedness, merely relaxing back into his chair while he waited for Thrawn, his erection thick and full where it rested at an angle toward his hip and his dark eyes glinting with undisguised interest. 

Those dark eyes followed Thrawn as he knelt once more between Savit’s open legs without further delay, thankful for the light cushion of the carpet under him. Hooking the admiral’s knees up onto his shoulders, Thrawn settled in comfortably, sitting back on his heels with his own knees spread wide. An open-mouthed kiss pressed to Savit’s inner thigh pulled a soft, humming sigh from the admiral’s lips; and Thrawn took his time kissing and licking a slow trail up Savit’s leg towards his center, drawing more of those pleased hums from his throat. Savit’s cock twitched briefly up off his stomach when Thrawn reached the top of his leg, veering off course to follow the line of the human’s hip up and out. The smell of fresh sweat was strong, but not unpleasant; and Thrawn trailed his lips and tongue over Savit’s taut belly a moment longer before finally drifting downwards once more, letting his cheek just barely brush along the stiff heat of Savit’s erection. 

A sharper inhale and a quiet moan drifted down from above when Thrawn mouthed lightly at the very base of Savit’s cock, just above its neatly-trimmed nest of tightly curled black hair. He had quite a bit more body hair than Eli did, Thrawn noted idly as he trailed the tip of his tongue up the underside of Savit’s shaft. He glanced up as he swirled his tongue around the head of Savit’s cock, the other admiral’s dark eyes meeting his gaze from under heavy lids, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly in pleasure and anticipation. 

Thrawn let the moment stretch, let Savit feel the humid warmth of his breath as he continued tonguing at the man’s swollen cockhead, light and teasing; and when Savit’s composure started to crumble, his hips shifting and his brow furrowing with frustrated need, Thrawn finally closed his lips around the tip of Savit’s straining cock and sucked him in. 

A subtle shudder of relief and desire traveled through Savit as Thrawn slid his lips and tongue down the length of the grand admiral’s cock, taking him deep from the start. Savit groaned, sinking further down in his chair as Thrawn drew back up again just as slowly, using nothing but his mouth to hold Savit’s cock upright for himself. Running one hand up the outside of the admiral’s bare thigh, he palmed the head of his own cock with the other, working his hand lazily over his own erection. He had already begun leaking a fair amount of precome, even before touching himself; and now it came faster still, quickly and thoroughly slicking his hand and cock both. 

Thrawn worked his mouth up and down the full length of Savit’s cock without ever quite pulling off completely, keeping the same slow, easy rhythm he had begun with. In time with the music, he realized before long, pausing briefly to tongue at the head of Savit’s cock and enjoying the tremor that ran through the admiral as he did. And as he continued, watching Savit’s abdomen tensing, muscles twitching in response to the motions of his tongue, he was not entirely surprised to find himself deriving a deep satisfaction at Savit’s reaction to him— as well as feeling quite pleased that he had _not_ lost any of his skills in this particular department, despite having not practiced them in almost a year. 

Eventually allowing Savit’s cock slip from his mouth with a wet pop, Thrawn looked up again to find smouldering dark eyes gazing intently down at him. 

“May I?” he murmured, running his slippery fingers along the cleft of Savit’s ass and letting his lips brush Savit’s shaft while he spoke. 

Savit sucked in a sharp breath and then breathed out a laugh, drawing his knees up and spreading himself open to Thrawn’s touch. “Where in the _hells_ did you even get- mmh…” 

He cut off again in a short, grunting moan as Thrawn circled two fingers lightly over his entrance. “I produce sufficient natural lubricant for… any activities we may wish to pursue,” Thrawn answered, pausing to cock a questioning eyebrow at Savit. 

“Works— _ahh—_ works for me,” Savit groaned after a decidedly _brief_ contemplation of the offer. 

Smiling to himself, a fresh thrill of arousal shivering through his core at Savit’s quick acceptance of his invitation, Thrawn bent his head and closed his mouth around the other admiral’s cock again. After reaching down to slick his fingers with precome once more, he rubbed them over Savit’s hole and then worked one into him, matching the relaxed pace of his mouth and pushing in a little deeper on every stroke. 

It wasn’t long before he was able to slip a second finger alongside the first. Savit’s already rapid breathing was becoming increasingly uneven as Thrawn fingered him open, sliding in and out; and then he twisted his palm up and curled his fingers, stroking, looking for— 

Savit jerked, hissing in a breath through his teeth. “ _Fuck!_ ” 

His hips bucked up, legs tightening where he had them wrapped around Thrawn’s upper back, and Thrawn would have smiled to himself if his mouth weren’t already busy. He had Savit trembling and twitching now, though he’d only barely increased the slow pace he’d begun with. Half-conscious of the orchestral music building higher around them, he increased the intensity along with it, sucking harder, gradually applying more pressure with his fingers; until Savit was panting out bitten-off curses and moans above him, hips shifting and rocking in time with Thrawn’s rhythm. 

And as the piece crescendoed, Savit crested as well with an explosive groan, clenching around Thrawn’s fingers and shuddering, his cock pulsing hot and hard against Thrawn’s tongue. Thrawn kept sucking him through his orgasm, the sharp, thick tang of come flooding his mouth and his own erection twitching, straining up between his spread thighs and aching for touch. He eased off gradually, with mouth and fingers both, finally pulling off as Savit slumped bonelessly into his chair. 

He continued slowly fucking the admiral on his fingers withouth stopping, however; and when he added a third finger, Savit’s back arched again, his breath hitching. 

“Perhaps you weren’t overstating your talents after all, Grand Admiral Thrawn,” Savit drawled lazily, his dark eyes fluttering open again to fix Thrawn with a still-heated gaze, hips rocking gently in time with the movement of Thrawn’s hand between his legs and his baton still twitching in a loose, relaxed grip. 

“I was not,” Thrawn answered simply. 

Savit’s smile deepened, his gaze running pointedly down Thrawn’s body. “And do these skills of yours extend to certain other ‘activities’ as well?” 

“They do,” Thrawn said with a little smirk of his own. He drove his fingers deeper to punctuate his statement, his own breath coming faster as Savit let out a low groan, eyes drifting shut again. 

Another little shudder ran through the human admiral when Thrawn repeated the motion, turning his head to deliver a light bite to Savit’s thigh at the same time. He withdrew his fingers and let Savit’s legs slip from his shoulders before rising to his feet, dropping his hand down to his cock with a quiet groan of relief at his own touch. 

Savit eyed him appreciatively for a moment longer, gaze roaming the length of Thrawn’s naked body; then carefully placed his baton on the small side table before pushing himself to his feet in a loose-limbed, easy movement. Thrawn stepped in behind him as he turned and bent forward, bracing against the chair back with both hands and getting one knee up on the seat cushion. 

Giving Savit’s ass a brief caress, Thrawn ran his hand over Savit’s bare lower back while lining himself up with the other, and a fervent groan escaped his lips at the first touch of his cock to Savit’s hot, slick hole. It truly had been _too_ long; and he allowed himself to fully savour the moment, ignoring everything but the sensation of exquisitely tight, wet heat as he pressed the very tip of his cock into Savit’s entrance. Savit quivered, trying to push back into it with a groan; but Thrawn edged back right along with him. 

“Impatient, Admiral?” Thrawn asked, and he could hear the light hoarseness of need in his own voice. 

“Like you aren’t,” Savit shot back, and Thrawn smirked to himself. 

“True,” he said; and before Savit had a chance to respond, Thrawn pushed inside him with a groaning sigh of pure relief. 

Savit gasped out a curse, shuddering as Thrawn breached him, slowly sliding deeper and deeper until his hips were nearly flush against Savit’s ass. He stilled just long enough to feel Savit relaxing around him; then gripped the admiral by both hips and pulled back again, slow and steady, luxuriating in that deliciously tight squeeze sliding the full length of his slick cock. 

He didn’t pause again, carefully pulling _almost_ all the way out before pushing in deep again with the same unhurried pace as before, watching his cock disappear again into Savit’s welcoming heat. The music had ended, Thrawn hadn’t quite noticed when; and now the air was filled instead by the sounds of his and Savit’s heavy breathing, by softly exhaled grunts and quiet moans as Thrawn thrust almost lazily in and out of him in long, deep strokes. Arousal burned insistently in his core, but Thrawn ignored the urge to rush to his climax, reveling in the feeling of burying himself into a lover’s welcoming heat over and over again; in the feeling of Savit’s skin under his palms; in the flex of long, lean back muscles under his hands as Savit rocked himself back and forth in perfect time with Thrawn’s rhythm, fucking himself on Thrawn’s cock just as much as Thrawn was fucking into him. 

As their panting moans increased in volume and intensity, Thrawn could only hold himself off for so long; and he finally shifted, nudging Savit’s legs wider and running his clean hand up Savit’s back to grip the grand admiral’s bare shoulder. Leaning forward slightly, still firmly holding Savit’s hip with his other hand, Thrawn gave a sudden, sharp thrust, in and down as much as he could. Savit jerked, gasping out a short, strangled curse, and Thrawn allowed himself a tight, pleased smile. Eli always had said there was something about Thrawn’s… shape that managed to ‘get him _exactly right’_ every time; and it appeared that held true for at least one other human as well. 

“ _Fuck…_ again,” Savit panted, his back arching; and Thrawn obliged with a grunt, driving into him hard and deep, another sharp gasp from Savit punctuating the loud _smack_ of Thrawn’s hips hitting his ass. 

Thrawn didn’t pause again, leaning his weight forward onto Savit’s hip and shoulder and driving into him with quick, hard thrusts that rapidly turned Savit’s broken curses into an almost continuous moan. The pitch of it rose and fell in a sharp, staccato rhythm as he was jolted back and forth, the muscles in his back and shoulders flexing from bracing against the tall chairback and sweat glistening down the arched curve of his spine. Slamming into Savit again and again, the burning tension in his gut coiling ever-higher and short, breathless grunts and moans falling from his own lips with every last thrust into Savit’s slick heat, Thrawn held his own orgasm at bay for as long as he could— but the pleasure finally overwhelmed him. 

Whitehot release burst through him in a flood of ecstasy and Thrawn shuddered, burying his throbbing cock to the hilt in Savit’s ass with a strangled, gasping cry. His hips continued jerking uncontrollably in uneven, shallow thrusts while he spilled out deep inside Savit; and his already intense orgasm was drawn out even further by Savit letting out a shivering moan and bucking back and forth, fucking himself on Thrawn’s cock while Thrawn came in him. 

Thrawn’s legs were shaky by the time he was fully spent, Savit trembling and twitching under his hands and both of them panting raggedly for breath. Slipping his forearm under Savit’s chest, Thrawn tugged him upright and started mouthing breathless kisses over the back of his bare, sweat-sheened neck and shoulder, pulling a pleased, humming moan from the admiral’s throat. He could feel his cock softening slowly inside Savit, but he stayed where he was a few moments longer, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy while his breathing gradually steadied and his pounding heart rate approached normal. 

When he inevitably felt himself beginning to slip out, he reached down and carefully pulled out, finally releasing Savit and stepping back with a brief pang of regret at the loss of contact. Savit groaned as he levered himself up to his feet, turning to face Thrawn— and to Thrawn’s mild surprise, Savit yanked him closer again, covering his mouth in a sloppy kiss and firmly gripping his ass in both hands with a muffled hum of appreciation. 

Savit was clearly still aroused, his partially-renewed erection hot where it was pressed against Thrawn’s leg; and Thrawn was just beginning to wonder if Savit actually intended to continue when the other admiral finally broke away again. 

“ _Well._ That was a better performance than what I had to endure out there this evening, at least,” Savit said, flashing Thrawn a crooked grin as he headed to the adjoined refresher at the back of the room. 

He paused on the way to key something on his datapad, and soft orchestral music filled the room again, a new piece this time. Cocking his head to listen, Thrawn eyed the conductor’s baton still sitting on the side table, briefly entertaining the notion of practicing a little in private before Savit returned from the refresher… then glanced down at his hand and groin with a slight grimace and went in search of something to clean himself up with instead. 

As luck would have it, the dressing table had a small dispenser of wet wipes— for stage make-up removal, Thrawn assumed— and he was able to wipe himself down well enough to get dressed again. He was still topless and tugging his second boot back on when Savit re-emerged. The other admiral’s face was damp, a few stray droplets of water still trailing slowly down his chest, and Thrawn eyed him openly before bending down to collect his rumpled undershirt from the floor. 

“You know, I almost wish you hadn’t finished me off first,” Savit commented wryly, stepping into his trousers with a short sigh. “Perhaps twenty years ago I could have managed a second one so soon, but…” 

Lifting one shoulder in a minute shrug as he tucked in his undershirt, the faint salty taste of Savit’s sweat still on his tongue, Thrawn cast a pointed look at the armchair he’d had Savit bent over only a few minutes before. “I had assumed you would prefer not to deal with cleaning the chair had I waited to ‘finish you off’.” 

“Oh, really? Because of _course_ you planned that much from the beginning,” Savit said with a laugh, rolling his eyes. 

Thrawn raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm in Savit’s tone, keeping his silence while he re-fastened his uniform tunic. He had, in fact, considered exactly that before deciding to work Savit to orgasm _before_ fucking him, but was content to let the grand admiral reach his own conclusions on the matter. 

Savit paused in the middle of buttoning up a fresh shirt and fixed Thrawn with a shrewd stare. “Actually, from what I’ve heard about you, I _might_ actually believe that.” 

“Well, perhaps next time,” Thrawn said lightly, clasping his hands behind his back as he waited for Savit to finish dressing. “If we find ourselves in such circumstances again, that is.” 

Savit smiled as he straightened his jacket with a sharp tug. There was something distinctly heated in the languid expression, and his eyes flickered briefly over Thrawn once more. 

“Perhaps next time, indeed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (a note from chaos - this of course takes place in the "STIs aren't a concern" star wars universe, because bacta and space medicine *waves hands vaguely*)

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. from motherrameses - IM SO HAPPY I GOT TO USE MY REAL LIFE KNOWLEDGE IN A FIC GOD BLESS U TIMMY Z


End file.
